Adrift Appurtenance
by usnavychic
Summary: Out of my frustration of Harm's negligence of Mac at the end of Adrift II, here's a "should've been" for satisfaction.
1. Outside His Place

Typical disclaimer applies. I'm not good enough at anything for anyone to pay me for it. Except maybe four-day prepared monologues - but that's still a mystery to me.  
  
I love feedback - thoughts regarding the story and the writing. Pretty please with sugar on it?!!! Thanks!  
  
Everything before the spoken word "Wait" is dialogue taken exactly from the production. The descriptions up until that point are my observations of the surrounding scene. From that point on, it is all mine (except for the characters, of course, and their history!)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She stands outside his apartment staring at the door, Mic's stone-cold glare refusing to vacate her mind's eye and Harm's susurrant words "I'm waiting" continuing to echo in her head. She composes herself, wiping her face and brushing the rain from her shoulders. With confidence and deliberateness that she does not feel, she knocks. Her hands she clasps nervously in front of her. After a brief moment, he appears there. He speaks immediately, hushed, catching her off guard.  
  
"Mac, Renee's father died. Suddenly. Heart failure. She just got here. We can't do this now. I told her I'd fly back with her. I should be gone a couple of days. I'm sorry." How he hates every word coming out of his mouth. He wants nothing more that to usher Renee out and lock Mac and himself in his loft until they figure this *thing* out. This is what he gets for being dishonest with himself . . . committed to someone he does not love and turning away his best friend - the one who holds the true allegiance of his heart.  
  
She glowers at him, almost incredulously, dread forming in her stomach and it's lead weight quickly spreading to her eyes, her face, her fingertips and knees. She pivots her head to see Renee sleeping on his couch. "No, you have to go," she answers in a like hushed tone, void of emotion. Although, she knows that he needs to go with Renee, she cannot help but feel betrayed. This is her time; she needs him now!  
  
"I'll call you when we land," he attempts with misplaced effort - desperate for her to know that he is here for her, despising himself that he really cannot be.  
  
She fidgets with her cover. "Don't do that to her. She needs you. Give her your full attention." Never more than now had she hated acting honorably.  
  
"What about you?" He asks, nothing but concern on his face and maybe a hint of regret. He wants to level with her, come clean about how he wishes that he were not dutifully bound to Renee. But, he knows that it would not do any good; the damage is done. A lot of damage. To both of them.  
  
"I'll be okay." Yeah, that's it, Mac, put up the tough Marine defenses. At least he asked. "When you get back . . . " But, not knowing how to complete her thought, she resigns herself. He turns for a moment to look back at Renee who has not moved. She nods her head, giving him permission to go to Renee. The corners of her mouth twitch in an attempt to smile but it will not form. She is tough; she can take it, but damn it, she should not have to. He looks as though he has something else to say - this is a look she does not see very often but with it she is all too familiar. And she feels the same - she has a sudden and almost over-whelming urge to cry out in grief and frustration. However, rationally, she supposes there is not anything appropriate to say. She wants to reach out to him, to touch him, maybe to smooth away the still-healing gash over his left eye, anything to be close. But, due to the incapacitating dread invading her body, she instead shifts her weight to her heals, attempting to muster the energy to tear her eyes away from him and be alone again. She is terrified.  
  
He looks at her, studies her face - the pain in her eyes; the smoothness and dampness of her skin; the tense muscles around her mouth and forehead. He senses her physical tumult - the unstillness of her body surely paralleling the turmoil inside. He feels helpless, powerless, and downright icky. This vile situation coats his insides with slime, oozing and utterly paralyzing him. Seeing her shift her weight away from him, he tilts his head ruefully, agonizing contrition scrawled across his face, and moves to close the door. In turn, she drops her hands to her sides in defeat, turning away.  
  
"Wait." Her heart leaps into her throat at his auspicious command. Stepping into the hallway, he leans his cane against the wall and carefully closes the door behind him.  
  
He looks intently into her pain-filled eyes and draws a deep breath, calming himself and assembling his thoughts. There must be something to say here. Something *needs* to be said. He had been so ready to talk to her, *really* talk to her, just twenty minutes ago. Damn it all to Hell!!! Standing here, all but frozen by the slime of fearful possibilities, he forces out his uppermost thought. "I know I should have said this weeks ago, huh, or a year ago . . ." Another brief pause to gather strength - why should looking into her eyes be so harrowing?! "Mac, I don't want you to marry Brumby." It comes out like a confession, an admitted sin, something of which he should be ashamed. Perhaps it is shame that he feels - shame for hiding, for his long-standing lie of omission, for knowing that he could have prevented her all of this pain. Her face betrays weary disbelief at his averment and this expression of mistrust stabs him in the gut. The disgusting ooze drips from the wound. "I hate that I'm feeling what I'm feeling. I'm so glad he's gone but I can't stand to see you hurt." His voice spills in a mixture of relief and helplessness, his brow confirming.  
  
"He's gone. And you don't want me to hurt," with contempt she sums. She continues with added conviction, "You're glad to see him gone because now you're not afraid you'll lose me. But, you're not any closer to having me, Harm. Renee's waiting for you." In response to his typical say-barely- enough-to-get-by routine, a quiet disgust sneaks into these words. She knows that they sting but she wants him to feel her pain. She turns to leave.  
  
"Mac!" He exclaims in an intense whisper. Ah, he finally said it and she threw it back in his face. Maybe a shower would be the better way to get rid of the slime. But, writhing in his skin, pleading with emotion, he tries again. "Please . . ."  
  
She glances over her shoulder and espies the unhidden desperation in his eyes. It tugs on the curtain of her iron will. She wants to tell him - tell him everything - what Mic said; how he is right and how he is wrong; how much she loves this man standing in front of her; and how much she despises him for pushing her away countless times. And, even now, when he is trying to draw her near, past rejections haunt her. Is she even capable of being close to him any more?  
  
He tries frantically to categorize his thoughts - what is the best course of action here. Fortunately, he finds the simple answer - now is not the time for an aberration. He has a grieving girlfriend inside and Mac's fiancé has just left her. They're friends through everything, and that is what she needs from him right now. He turns on the gentle compassion and opens his arms; she moves to them quickly after only a brief hesitation. Resting her temple on his shoulder and her forehead against his chin, she resumes her crying almost immediately and the protective embrace of his arms and chest comfortingly warm her.  
  
She cries. She cries because of her loneliness. She cries for having deceived herself as well as Mic. She cries for having taken advantage of him. She cries for not loving him the awesome way he loves her. She cries for being stuck out in Harm's hallway. She cries for all their missed opportunities and tragic timing. And she cries because she is in his arms now, but she knows it cannot last.  
  
With her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, gripping for dear life, he is close to tears himself and his chest aches. Every one of her quiet sobs causes him to flinch, reminding him of his helplessness. How can he wipe away her tears, and this tension, and their fear? He does not want to let her go - ever - especially not to hold Renee in her place. Goodness, how did they ever let these relationships get so out of hand?  
  
For these few moments, their relationship is all but perfect. She hurts. He hurts because of her pain. She trusts and he comforts. And no one and nothing stands between them - almost. The mendacity hovers around them.  
  
Their reprieve is shattered when a noise is heard from behind the door. She loosens her hold and raises her head shooting a look of quiet terror into his eyes. Not fully understanding her fear, he smiles apologetically down at her and pulls her back in for another quick embrace, simply not wanting to let her go.  
  
She finally steps back, regrettably, out of his reassuring hold, wiping the tears from her face. "I have to figure some things out, Harm. You'll be back in a couple days?" She felt like a child asking when Daddy was coming home - sniffling, so sad and needy. But, she knows - she needs him.  
  
"Yeah. But, I'm sure I can break away for a little bit at some point. I'll call you," he offers in earnest.  
  
"No, I need this time." She wearily nods her head, her eyes red and swollen. "See me when you get back?"  
  
He gives her hand a light supportive squeeze. "You couldn't stop me if you tried," he answers with a small, yet genuine smile. Soon will not be soon enough.  
  
With the aid of his cane, he hails the elevator for her. She steps in and turns around to face him. "Take care," he offers, pointedly, his arm continuing to hold open the door - desperate for just another moment with her.  
  
"Thanks, Harm." Sullenly she answers, her face drawn and weathered.  
  
Watching her disappear behind the heavy door of the elevator, he takes a moment and composes himself. Most of the slime dripped away. Most. That hug was definitely better than a shower. Limping across the hall and tucking away the thoughts and emotions that belong only to Mac, he takes another deep breath and opens the door to his loft. 


	2. Inside Her Place

Three days later:  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Hey."  
  
They exchange half-smiles as he moves slowly through her doorway.  
  
"How was Minnesota?" she asks with her back to him, closing the door.  
  
"Excruciating," he sighs.  
  
"Whoa, that's a strong sentiment! What happened?" She gestures to the couch, offering him a seat.  
  
He groans as he drops himself like a ton of bricks onto the sofa. "I just didn't want to be there. The weather was miserable. I felt useless. And the undertaker is a friend of Renee's from high school - so we spent an inordinate amount of time at the funeral home. And he's not such an interesting guy - being a mortician and all. And I didn't work out or eat one decent meal." He shakes his head with a grimace.  
  
She chuckles in response. "I'm sorry, Harm. Home sweet home, huh?" Her expression amused.  
  
He straightens himself and looks up at her as she continues to stand on the other side of the coffee table. With sincere staidness, he asks, "How have you been?"  
  
With a deep breath she attempts to assure him. "I'm alright." Despite her efforts, the shakiness of her response again betrays her inner turmoil.  
  
"Look, Mac, I want to apologize. I'm sorry for putting you in the position where you couldn't come to me, that I turned you away." He averts his eyes abashedly, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I'm sorry you were somewhere alone needing me. I feel sick about it." After a moment of staring at the carpet, having still not heard a response, he ventures a look. Mac's pained expression leaves him wide-eyed. "I'm sorry; this shouldn't be about me."  
  
"But, it *is* about you, Harm! It's *all* about you." She explodes without missing a beat. To choke back emotion, she pauses and gasps a ragged breath. Realizing that he is sure to not understand her outburst, she continues. "I asked Mic not to leave and he told me that the only reason I wanted him to stay was because I was afraid to be alone. And he's right," she says, quietly, tears filling her hazel eyes. "The Corps's made me tough and independent - I don't *need* anyone. But, I'm afraid." With a scornful chuckle she adds, "The irony's that I would've been alone even if I *had* married Mic."  
  
"What? You said that you loved him," he exclaims, thoroughly confused.  
  
"I do love him. But, I'm not *in* love with him. For all his good intentions, there's a hole in my heart that Mic could never fill. But, I was going to marry him anyway." She wraps her arms around herself for a measure of protection, disgusted with herself.  
  
"Why, then?" Although astounded by her alacrity, trying to put together the insufficient pieces of this deranged puzzle is giving him the start of a catastrophic headache.  
  
"'Cause I'm afraid to be alone, Harm." She chokes back a sob, attempting to retain her composure. She removes her eyes from the familiar tip of her stockinged foot to find Harm standing in place. She sees the compassion and confusion dueling in his eyes. Drawing strength from his gaze, she continues quietly. "I would have walked off of the Admiral's porch with you - if only you'd wanted me to. But, you didn't." She attempts to smile as if it does not matter any longer. "I thought that having someone who loves me as much as Mic does is better than nothing." Seeing his face fall in disbelief, yet still unconvinced that he did not already know, she explodes, "I don't want to wait around for you forever. I DON'T!!! I hate you for making me wait. I hate you for making me feel guilty for wanting to be with *some*one, even if it isn't you. And I hate you for making me hurt Mic." Another ragged breath for air and pause for calm. "But, I can't help it. You're gonna have it your way." She looks up at him, amazed and horrified at her courage. "I have no desire to be with anyone but you, Harm." She looks down, and then drops heavily into the recliner, with quiet sobs and quiet tears. "And I hate you for that, too."  
  
He stands there, staring at the top of her head, all but paralyzed by her impetuous revelation. Those same quiet sobs tugging at the familiar ache in his chest. "Mac . . . I thought . . . I . . . thought you *wanted* to be with Brumby. I didn't want to make it hard for you. It was your decision to make." But, knowing that that was a cop-out, he looks down and adds quieter, deeper, "I told you I wanted you."  
  
She looks up through an agonized laugh. Jadedly, she deliberately enunciates each word, "No, Harm, you told me you wanted me to wait." He looks at her again, their eyes lock, pain flowing openly between them. "Just to keep my life on hold. What the*hell* am I waiting for?!"  
  
He sits again, this time perched on the edge of the couch, recognizing her most recent question as his opening. "You said it; I couldn't let go. And that's just it - we were both putting our lives on hold." One more deep breath, more for effect than anything. He intends for these words to come off strong and confident but they are mere air. "Mac, I can't be the man I want to be without you."  
  
"Wha'?" Her question a barely-articulated reaction.  
  
"It took me being willing to lose you to Brumby to understand what a clod I've been. I know what I want out of life. And I've tried to get it - with Annie and Jordan and Renee. But, I could never . . . deep down, I knew from the beginning that they wouldn't work out. Mac, it's you. And I'm sorry that it had to go this far for me to get here, but I don't want to put my life on hold any more. I'm done wasting time." She dazedly stares at him. "Do you really hate me?"  
  
A reactive chuckle escapes her lips. "Harm . . ." She looks down again to compose her thoughts. She begins with a slight smile as she meets his awaiting eyes. "I hate everything you've put me through," and, acknowledging him as her protector, "everything that you allowed me to put myself through." She shakes her head; she can feel the tears coming again. "I could never hate you. I was just so tired of standing still. So, I tried to move on with Mic. But, it wasn't fair to him because I wasn't in love with him." She averts her eyes, slowly inhaling, building strength. "And it wasn't fair to me because I *am* in love with you."  
  
Her breath catches in her throat as his hand is placed gingerly on her knee. "I'm sorry that I didn't understand. The last thing I want to do is hurt you and . . . and I don't think I've ever been able to avoid it. Mac, at the party . . . I really thought that it was Brumby you wanted. I tried to give you a way out but you didn't seem to be interested. I - "  
  
"*Harm*!" Him and his blasted excuses! Seething, she leaps out of the chair and paces the room. "Sometimes a girl needs to be *fought* for. Mic gave up his country and the Navy for a *chance* with me. You wouldn't even put your precious pride on the line." She stops and faces him head on, looking him dead in the eye. "That doesn't make me feel like I'm worth much."  
  
"Not worth much?! Oh, my God, MAC!!!" He exclaims with a deep wrinkle in his brow and disbelief in his voice.  
  
She lets out an exasperated huff.  
  
After everything they have been through together and for each other, it is preposterous that she thinks that she is worth nothing to him. She cannot honestly believe that. And he knows it. But, having just laid her heart on the line, he knows that he must respond in kind. Quietly, knowingly, he goes for it. "You're bitter."  
  
"HA! I think I have a right to be," she shoots back, angrily defiant. He has pushed her away so many times and ran them around in circles for so long, damn straight she is bitter!  
  
"It just makes it harder for me," he continues.  
  
His quiet introspective tone rubs her frayed nerves. "Hard for *you*?!"  
  
"Mac, I don't think you heard me."  
  
"I've heard everything you've said, Harm," interrupting, becoming more angry with the passing of every word.  
  
"No, you heard but I don't think you were listening. I want you. Now." He stands, arms limp at his sides, begging with his eyes.  
  
She wonders at those last words - is her heart deceiving her? "So, I'm just supposed to accept that? Am I supposed to run into your arms and forget about everything . . . ?" Her frustration slow to dissipate.  
  
"How do I make it up to you?" Knowing that he probably never could truly expiate. But, at this point, he will try anything.  
  
"That's for you to figure out," she spits back at him. He wants bitter, she will give him bitter.  
  
Well, that only leaves him one option. He moves around the coffee table and stands directly in front of her, in an open position. "Mac," here goes nothin', "I love you."  
  
His words pierce through her anger; she opens her eyes and finds herself staring, just inches from her, at his throat. His throat. Those words just came from his throat. Did she really hear him say that?! She tilts her head to look into his eyes. "Really?" She asks, matter-of-factly.  
  
A chuckle escapes his lips. Wow, is he nervous. This vulnerability stuff is not easy. "Really."  
  
"What about Renee?" She inquires, cautiously, skeptically.  
  
He dismissively waves his hand. "We'll talk when she gets home."  
  
"When will that be?" She asks, wistfully, the declaration beginning to sink in.  
  
"Some time next week, I think."  
  
For a moment, she is absolutely speechless - his dulcet words like candy. Are they setting a date to "get together?" With the help of her careful smile, she finds her voice. "I forget how many years it's been. I guess I can wait another week."  
  
He reaches out for her and pulls her into his arms. With her head tucked under his chin, she feels his rapid heartbeat. The few times that they had embraced, she had always felt so comfortable. But, this . . . this place she never wants to leave. And with his promise, she never will. With her eyes closed, and the sound of his pounding heart in her ear, she asks for that promise. "Say it again."  
  
"Mac!"  
  
"Say it again."  
  
"I love you."  
  
La fine 


	3. Appendex Inside His Head

This is NOT part of the story. This piece took me a long time to write - it's complicated business getting inside their heads. (I'm still knew at this!) One particularly frustrating day, brooding over my laptop, I just couldn't get my head wrapped around Harm. What the heck are his motivations?!!! So, to get some idea of where he is coming from, I wrote a sort of stream of consciousness, weaved among the bits of conversations he had with Mac. It was an interesting exercise. And succeeded in pulling me out of my funk. I thought you might like a little glimpse into my process! Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I've been through hell...the stress of the engagement party and knowing that Mac doesn't want me. She wants Brumby and I REALLY don't like him!!! I can't believe that she's really gonna marry him! I can't believe that I could love her so much and hurt this much. FUCK! Why was I such a coward in Sydney?! Why couldn't I tell her what I was thinking. That I just couldn't cross that line with her there, once and never again, I wouldn't ever be able to put my head back in the right place. But, Lord, I would have done it if I had known it would turn out like this. God, the feel of her lips, the kiss, the look on her face of disbelief and almost-horror - I can't believe I let myself do that. I can't believe she actually said 'goodbye.' Oh, I'm gonna be sick. After everything that we'd been through together, after rehashing our entire relationship, she said goodbye. I'm glad that inhaling and exhaling are involuntary or I would have stopped breathing that night.  
  
I'm still shaky from the ejection. Frantic. I was frantic. I needed to be at the wedding. If I didn't see it for myself, I never would believe it. Then I would never be able to get Mac out of my head, or my heart. God, I don't *want* her out of either. I told her I'd be there.and I couldn't break that promise. Just like all of my promises. I've promised her things, unspoken promises, to love her and protect her and always be there for her. And then there's the promise to have a baby with her.... And I promised her I'd be at the wedding. So I tried. And she helped find me. God, we've done that so many times for each other - helped rescue each other, from so many different things. I didn't give a damn about the weather - I just needed to get back to Mac. Did I want to be there to see the wedding, to stop the wedding, or just to be there for Mac? Could I really have stood there and supported her. She said that she was happy with Brumby. Ugh.  
  
Mac: Hi. Welcome back.  
  
Harm: Wow. You look miserable. Come on in.  
  
Mac: Maybe not.  
  
Harm: Mac, come on in.  
  
Mac: He moved out.  
  
Harm: He did. Why?  
  
Mac: I don't think he believes I love him.  
  
Harm: Do you?  
  
Mac: Yes.  
  
Harm: Well, tell him.  
  
Mac: It's complicated.  
  
Harm: Talk to me.  
  
Mac: This is a mistake. I don't know why I'm here.  
  
Mac: He's leaving the country.  
  
Harm: Why?  
  
Mac: I've got to stop him.  
  
Harm: Is it because you came here?  
  
Mac: He just can't get past this thing with us.  
  
Harm: Maybe that's because we can't get past it.  
  
She went after him. Why wouldn't she stay here and talk to me?! Why can't I get over it - she loves him. She doesn't love me. She doesn't love me? She does love me, but as a friend. That's what we have, friendship. Like always. We're there for each other through everything - everything. But, if she marries Brumby, I don't think it'll be the same. She'll share everything with him; he'll be there to comfort her and bail her out. It won't be me. And who will have my back? I don't really *need* anyone, but, she's always been there to save me from myself when I'm being irrational - about Diane's death, in Russia, when I was on trial. God, I *can't* lose her; I can't *lose* that. Why can't she be my best friend?! Just stay friends. Why do things have to change? It's safe here - we know each other *so* well, and we trust each other implicitly. I thought we had an understanding. That we, you know, stay single forever, until something changes and we decide that we want to be lovers?! What the *hell* am I thinking? Shit doesn't work like that. What could possibly change that would make this any easier? Easy? Is this easy - negative. We have our careers to think of. And...and...and *what*?! We need to talk. We need to talk this out. I need to know what she's thinking. I need to know if she still feels the way she did in Sydney...But, I want more than what she offered in Sydney - if anything at all. It's friends or spouses. I can't do the middle ground with her. Spouses?! She just ran after Brumby. I really am gonna be sick. I want her to be happy, I do. But, she asked it - even if it's with Brumby? I would hate it, but I would support her. I would forget who she was married to because it doesn't matter, as long as she's happy. But, I want her to be happy with *me*.  
  
Why the hell is Brumby leaving?! Who could possibly leave her?! He spent so much energy winning her over - and the waiting, God all the waiting he did. And she's gonna marry him. Why the hell would he run away now?! Is it because she came here? Well, we've always been that for each other. If he were not there for her, she would come to me. That's the way we work. What's the issue?! Why would he walk out on her?! Doesn't he know the history there...walking away, even temporarily, is paralyzing for Mac. God, I'd deck him again if he were here. How could he treat her so carelessly? Bastard!!!  
  
Harm: Hello?  
  
Mac: [crying] He's gone. He wouldn't even speak to me.  
  
Harm: Hey. Hey. Don't blame yourself for this. Brumby has always acted impulsively. It was just a matter of time.  
  
Mac: What are you saying?  
  
Harm: This isn't going to make it hurt any less, but it's better now than six months into the marriage.  
  
Mac: Okay, I'm hanging up now. (doesn't want to admit he's right; just something to say.)  
  
Harm: Mac...where are you going?  
  
Mac: I don't know.  
  
Harm: Come to me.  
  
Mac: Why?  
  
Harm: So we can talk.  
  
Mac: We already talked.  
  
Harm: Don't argue with me.  
  
Mac: I need a better reason.  
  
Harm: You know the reason .. Mac?  
  
Mac: I'm here.  
  
Harm: I'm waiting.  
  
Oh, NO!!! God, Renee! That was damn gutsy of me, telling Mac to come here to talk. I can't believe that this had to happen now?! I'm ready to break up with Renee and here she is needing me. Why is my timing with Mac always so awful?! I can't believe that she's gonna chalk up the guts to come here and I'm gonna turn her away. Uh, I can't even think straight. Damn it all to hell, Rabb! What the hell are you doing with Renee to begin with. Well, Mac had Brumby. You needed someone. Something. God, the doubledate. What's wrong with us?!  
  
Alright, Renee will be here any second. Calm yourself down, Rabb. Time to be comforting and understanding. Losing a parent is hard - very hard. I feel for Renee. I just have to keep my mind with her and not on Mac. Ugh, sometimes doing right really sucks. 


End file.
